The Trolliest Fandom
by bonneibennett
Summary: Originally this was just one drabble that I'd written in response to Bamon hate in the tumblr tag, but since 5x22 there's been such an influx of insecure non-Bamon shippers flooding the Bamon tag that I have a feeling I'll be writing a lot more of these. So here's a collection of drabbles and one-shots written for tumblr in response to tagged Bamon hate.
1. 01 Game On

booklovertotheendoftime:  
**Hey BAMON shippers you really think DAMON of ALL PEOPLE would change his heart that quickly after that HEARFELT OF A SPEECH?! AND THAT BONNIE BENNETT WOULD FALL FOR HIM?! NO WAY IN A MILLION YEARS! SHE WOULD PUT ELENA FIRST, LIKE ALWAYS! SO NEVER EVER EVER! DELENA IS ENDGAME!**

* * *

In the darkness, he stared at the old "Welcome to Mystic Falls" sign. The paint was peeling, and the letters were chipped.

Damon had a decision to make.

The board was set, each piece perfectly placed and each player awaiting the roll of the dice. The plans were all made.

Usually when Damon made decisions, the plans were not yet made. Usually things were falling apart, and his life was threatening to split at its seams. But this time, all that had already happened. His brother was dead. The travelers were threatening to end witch magic and hence his own existence. The Other Side was crumbling. Bonnie Bennett was crumbling along with it.

With all that had happened, that last realization had been the final one to hit him. But there in her dorm room as they argued with a mutual sense of desperation, he understood. She had taken the time to pack up her belongings, file away every bit of the ghost of a human life she had returned to… and she had no expectation of ever being able to open up those boxes again.

Like him, Bonnie was the sort who made decisions and plans. And the plan that she had formulated now was not going to save her. So Damon decided to make a few little adjustments of his own.

There were very few people in the world that Damon truly cared about. A short list, you could say. He still couldn't quite articulate why or when or how, but the witch was on that list. When he had learned of her death, it took Damon all of ten minutes to realize that mourning her was not an option. He was single-minded in his determination to bring her back to life where everyone else had failed to even try.

And even before, when she was lost on that island, the urgency of his impulse to find her surprised him. The relief of having her wrapped in his arms was lucid in his mind even now. From his vantage point on the hood of his car, he was crystal clear on what he had to do.

"I will make it back to you," Damon had lied. "I promise."

Tears and worry marred Elena's face, and Damon brushed her cheek for what he knew was the last time. Winning Elena's love was the greatest achievement of his years on Earth. Selfishly, he wanted to keep that.

But he knew with a level of clarity that he had never felt before that this was not a time for selfishness. As his brother had sacrificed his own love of Elena on that night ages ago, to fulfill the bargain with Klaus and save Damon's life, Damon now made his decision. If it were any other day, such a consciously selfless act would have worn him ragged with the insidious brand of cognitive dissonance that punctuated every choice he'd ever made in his life. But today, all he felt was calm. Calm, and ready.

His brother would be alive. Elena would be safe. Bonnie wouldn't die alone.

He rolled the dice. The game began.

BDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDBD

"Well, would you look at that," did seem a bit of an understatement, Bonnie thought. It was weird, but she almost felt like _she_ was more upset that he hadn't been able to pass back through her than he was.

Still, she had experienced an overwhelming relief when she saw him finally appear amidst the brush and trees, in the cool and unforgiving landscape of the Other Side. Despite their failure, the sensation continued to surge through her, and she was guilty and glad to not be facing the end by herself.

She didn't know what to make of Grams' cryptic assurances, but she decided that they were why she felt safe in that surreal moment. Not because of the vampire standing beside her, nor his fingers interlocked with her own.

She inhaled and squinted into the light around them as it grew in intensity. "Do you think it will hurt?"

His fingers squeezed hers, and all she could see was white.

"I don't kn-"


	2. 02 Heaven

victoriajoaquin:  
i don't really care what you ship or not but  
i hope you understand  
it doesn't exists in the show :'(  
the books? is other story, of course they do, i hear a lot of stuff (wich i don't like it, but i really don't mind 'cause in my opinion i don't like the books either)  
I love the TV show and i'm JUST TALKING ABOUT IT  
**NOT THE BOOKS  
**but c'mon, is a _SHOOOOW  
_i kind scared when i see people talking about **IAN SOMERHALDER AND KAT  
**like… omg…  
that's creepy you guys, 'cause they're real persons, not damon and bonnie for real,  
with ian somerhald and nina is totally diferent 'cause they actually dated in real life, so please stop it  
write fanfics, and make videos, and gifs, and be happy blabla  
but stop saying who is "better ship"  
i'm not blashing anyone, i'm just wanna explain (if isn't clear) that this ship doesn't exist, and hope you guys understand (sorry if i ofend u)  
love u all

* * *

"Do you think it will hurt?" "I don't kn-"

Two seconds of afterlife. One blinding flash of light. Half of an uttered sentence from his lips.

That's all it took for him to lose her.

He was gripping her hand, squeezing it so tightly that he knew he must be hurting her. But the alternative was to allow her to slip through his fingers, and that just wasn't something that Damon could allow.

His mind couldn't accept the possibility of Bonnie Bennett disappearing into the aether of the dissipating Other Side. He couldn't leave her to fend off the vast unknown alone.

So he made a plan. He pretended he would survive. He said his goodbyes. And then he sacrificed himself, leaving behind two of the people most important to him. But he knew that Stefan and Elena would be safe, knew that they would take care of each other in the end.

He did all of that to protect this witch, no, not even a witch anymore. Just a ghost of a girl, pantomiming the everyday banalities of the life she'd already forfeited, only to be forced to forfeit it all over again.

And despite everything, he had lost her. As the blazing white light enveloped them, those warm fingers twined with his own simply vanished, leaving him nothing to grip but air.

When he found himself again, blinking and dazed, he was sitting by the edge of Wickery River, before the bridge was built. The rushing water seemed hushed, after the roar of the collapsing Other Side had nearly consumed him.

A whooping yell alerted him to an eight-year-old Stefan, leaping over the edge of the falls and tumbling into the water. Damon's breath caught in his throat as fear clenched his chest tight.

And then he remembered.

He had lived this before. Back when he was human, this was the day that he and Stefan had escaped their stodgy old tutor and spent an idyllic afternoon undiscovered at the falls.

Stefan surfaced, laughing. The innocent mirth made his eyes seem so bright, and Damon felt a different emotion clenching in his chest then.

He took a step toward the water and realized that he was still wearing his boots and leather jacket. He remembered the blinding light that assaulted his eyes, he remembered the unwavering words that left her lips just before he lost her.

"Do you think it will hurt?"

The ground beneath him gave way. He was falling, falling, until he wasn't.

And then he stood in another place entirely.

It was Sheila Bennett's house, and it stood the way Damon remembered it years ago, when he had stopped by on one of his sporadic Bennett bloodline guardian check-ins.

The last time he had been here, a young girl had been playing on the driveway. One little foot looped into a bizarre contraption of a toy, she jumped and swung the neon plastic, hopping her second foot over it in time.

"That's a Skip-It, right?" he approached her smoothly, his voice reaching for a softness that he hardly recognized itself.

Still, the girl startled. "GRAMS!" Shocking green eyes stared at him for half a moment before she had stumbled into the house, the discarded toy lying haphazard on the concrete behind her.

And there he found it now, the girl nowhere to be found. He stooped to pick it up, the bright plastic smooth against his fingertips.

He walked towards the door. "Bonnie?" he called out. No answer.

The front door swung open when he knocked, and he wondered if vampires needed invitations wherever he was now. He took a step in.

And found himself falling again. Falling, falling, into another warm memory.

He traveled through the disorienting new world in that way, soon losing count of how many places he'd been, how many moments of his life he had replayed. And still, he couldn't find her.

Until finally, he found himself on that island.

"BONNIE!" he shouted into the empty woods. This is where he found her once, this is where he would find her again. A surge of hope rushed through him. "Bonnie, where are you?" he yelled.

He stumbled over brush and swatted away tree limbs. "Bonnie!" He fought his way back to that glen where he had found her before.

And then he heard it. The faintest rustle, just a small patch of pine needles colliding together, and it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

There she was, tumbling out into the glen. Her eyes found his and she gasped, "Damon?"

He didn't pause, didn't say a word, didn't even breathe. Not a moment had passed before she was crushed against him, his arms tight around her. She wrapped her arms around him in return, her fingers pressing into his back. She sank into his embrace with a sigh, her eyes closing, safe in the knowledge that they were together now.

And they would always be together now.


	3. 03 Finding Peace

isolarity:  
do bamon fans actually exist  
#tvd#bamon#idk#no offense#vampire diaries#vamps#damon and bonnie#OMFG#i dont see why not#dont see the point#delena#de#damon and elena#love#delena fan#guilty

* * *

Hollow rattling and the jingle of loose coins echoed through the foyer as Bonnie rummaged through her purse.

"Babe, I'm home!" she shouted, dumping the bag onto a tall table in the hallway. She slipped her keys onto a filigreed hook mounted on the wall, and she reached down to nudge the sleek black heels from her feet.

Despite years of success at the firm, she was certain her body would never grow accustomed to the dress code. She was next in line to be partner when Sulez retired, but the shoes were still a pain in her ass.

She leaned back against the wall, fingertips pressing into the cool plaster as she gave her feet a languid stretch, arching and extending each in turn.

She pushed away from the wall and inhaled. "Mmm, something smells good in there," she murmured.

A shock of jet black hair popped out from the doorframe a few feet away from her. "Oh good, you're here," Damon said. "Why don't you change into something nice? I'm almost done in here. I have a... well, it's a surprise."

Bonnie felt warmth surge through her at the sight of him. She knew quite well by now that usually Damon was a creature of routine, every detail of his home and person accounted for. He was downright domestic.

Today though... today something had him out of sorts, and she couldn't help but smile. His hair was a mess, the dark strands unruly and wild. Something bright red was splattered across his shirt, and what appeared to be flour fingerprints marred his dark jeans.

She glanced down at her own clothing. It wasn't haute couture or anything, but her pleated russet blouse and black pencil skirt didn't seem too shabby to her. She looked back up at him, mouth opened to say as much when she realized that he'd already turned back to the kitchen.

She trailed in behind him and noticed he was making his way to a large stockpot placed on the stove. He dipped a wooden spoon in and gave it a stir, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Hmm, change into something nice... How nice are we talking here?" She leaned across the counter towards him with a smirk.

"Oh no," he replied, not turning away from his task. "You're not tricking the secret out of me this time, you sorceress."

She grinned.

"Go on, shoo," he said. Damon didn't have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes, smiling and turning towards the stairs, in that order. He brought the spoon to his lips and gave the tomato sauce a taste.

An hour later, Bonnie's hair was coiffed neatly to one side and she was wearing her favorite cocktail dress, enjoying the way the slinky champagne beads brushed her knees as she made her way down the stairs. She walked into the dining room to find candles, seemingly hundreds of candles, filling every available surface. The flames flickered, drawing long dancing shadows across the warm burgundy wallpaper.

Her eyes grew wide.

The table was set for two. Two wine-colored damask placemats on the crisp linen tablecloth, two sets of the fine china plates that Damon's mother had given him, two neatly folded napkins cinched by filigreed gold rings, and a full host of paired silverware.

"Happy anniversary, Mrs. Salvatore." His voice was quiet.

She turned to find him standing in the doorway. All of the disarray of earlier that evening had vanished. He wore a luxe black suit, his hair was tamed, and he had one elegant fluted glass filled with bubbling liquid in each hand.

He grinned with a pride that was so childlike it almost seemed innocent. Almost. This was still Damon, after all.

He held one of the glasses out to her. The glint of cufflinks inset with champagne onyx caught her eye as he moved, and she wondered how he knew which dress she'd choose.

"Happy anniversary, Damon." She smiled.

She took a step towards him and everything changed.

The ground beneath them shook violently. Candles toppled to the floor. The once gentle flames soon raged tall and angry, devouring the carpet and threatening to consume them both.

"What the hell is going on?" Bonnie shouted, realizing the air in the room was rushing around them, feeding the fire and surrounding them with a roar.

"I don't know!" he shouted back.

Her eyes met his, which blinked away his hair as the wind whipped it back into wildness. They were separated by a line of flame.

She reached out to him, and his gaze darted to the blistering fire between them.

Before she could even breathe, he had leapt. He landed right in front of her, his body pressing against hers. He leaned down to brush at his singed shoes.

"Look, it's going to be okay," he shouted against the roar of the wind, which picked up with an even greater violence now.

"How do you know?" Her voice felt hoarse, and she could feel the heat of flames at her back, at her sides, all around them. The light of the fire became brighter, each moment more and more a searing, blinding white.

There was pressure against her fingertips, and he lifted her hand up to show her where they were intertwined. Palm to palm, their fingers were desperately tangled together.

"I don't kn-"

She blinked.

They were surrounded. They were in some dank room in a basement that she would have assumed abandoned if not for the small crowd of people assembled who stared at them in wonder, expectantly.

A blonde spoke up first. "We did it. We really did it." Bonnie noticed the sheen of tears in the girl's blue eyes.

A man, who appeared to be in his thirties, with floppy brown hair rushed towards them. His hand gripped Bonnie's shoulder. "Oh my God, Bonnie... is it really you?"

Bonnie stood with her mouth agape.

Damon stared at the hand on his wife's shoulder.

A girl with long brunette hair stood across the room stared at Bonnie and Damon's entwined hands, her mouth setting in a tense line.

A boy stood beside her and stepped forward, peering at Damon with suspicion. "It's been 15 years, but we never stopped trying to get you back. Never."

Damon ignored the boy. He pulled Bonnie towards him and out of the grasp of the man standing beside her.

The boy who had been speaking frowned, a heavy furrow creasing his brow. "Well, say something."

Bonnie glanced around in confusion for another moment before finally finding her voice.

"Who the hell are you people?"


	4. 04 Strangers in a Strange Land

xashtraysx:  
I'm can't wait for people's reactions when Bamon doesn't actually happen

* * *

"Who the hell are you people?"

For a moment, the place was utterly silent. Damon could hear the wind rushing through trees outside, though he couldn't see any windows. Or at least he assumed they were trees. Who knew what kind of place this was, where people apparently congregated in dank, abandoned basements and seemed thrilled to pull strangers out of their perfectly orchestrated anniversary dinners in a deluge of panic and fire? Curious, he was about to take a step towards the dilapidated doorway when motion out of the corner of his eyes stilled him. That man was moving towards Bonnie again.

"It's us, remember?" The man placed his hand on Bonnie's shoulder once more, seemingly unaware of how she tensed at his touch. Damon wanted to drag him off of her by his stupid, floppy hair. "It's me, it's Jeremy."

Bonnie's view on the man was somewhat… less violent, though if possible she was even more discomfited. She could see him blink away the sting of tears, his warm brown eyes urgent upon her.

"I'm sorry, but I – I don't know you."

Those soft brown eyes fell, their gaze dropping dejectedly to the floor. The room seemed to deflate, and Bonnie couldn't help noticing that everyone else was looking at each other with some level of resignation, not surprise.

She was about to open her mouth to say as much when she felt the grip on her arm tighten. Jeremy lurched towards her and grasped both shoulders in his hands. "Remember me, Bonnie! You have to remember!"

Everyone moved then. The blonde girl's hands flew up to her face, covering her mouth and her shocked expression. The brunette reached toward Bonnie, her lips parted as if to speak. The boy standing next to them shouted, "Jeremy, don't!" Two older men in the back of the room both began to move forward, but they stopped.

Damon was already there.

His hand was wrapped tight around Jeremy's throat, and he was nearly wedged between the man and Bonnie. Though his voice was low, it had such an edge to it that Jeremy's eyes snapped to him immediately. "Take your clammy hands off of my wife before I punch that idiotic, mooning look right off your face."

"Wait, punch? But you're a va-" The boy standing beside them was interrupted by the brunette.

"Wait, wife?"

"Priorities, Elena," the blonde muttered, and the brunette shot her a glare.

A moment later Jeremy had his head in his hands, having had released Bonnie. Damon dropped his grip on Jeremy's neck in turn and looked to Bonnie with concern.

Elena took another step forward, watching the careful way Damon touched Bonnie's arm and the worry in his eyes when he looked at her. She saw the subtle nod of Bonnie's head, and the way Damon's shoulders visibly relaxed to have the silent confirmation that Bonnie was okay.

"Oh my God, it's true. You're really married, aren't you?" She was standing beside the pair, and took Bonnie's hand into her own, brushing her thumb over the gleaming gold band on the woman's ring finger.

"One year today, actually," Bonnie said.

Elena stared at her, still confused. She let Bonnie's hand slip from her grasp.

Jeremy moved to Elena, muttering, "I can't do this, I can't lose her again." He stalked out of the room.

The boy beside them shifted awkwardly, and the blonde girl laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Uh, it's your anniversary then. Congratulations," the blonde man in the back said.

Bonnie shook her head and gave a harried laugh. "Thanks, whoever you are."

"Matt, I'm Matt," he said, smiling to see her laugh at least.

"Uh yeah, thanks Matt. Anyway, this has been fun and all…" Damon gave her a look. "Okay no, it's been horrific. So, maybe you could send us back now?"

"Not… exactly," the blonde girl said, cringing.

Damon's mouth set in a hard line. "What do you mean, not exactly?"

"She means the spell to bring you back here was major, major stuff… You're not supposed to want to go back, and even if you do, half the ingredients got used up. Also, the witch left. I'm Tyler, by the way," a dark-haired man in the back said.

"I can't believe we're seriously introducing ourselves to Bonnie and Damon," the blonde murmured.

The boy beside them hooked a thumb to the blonde. "That's Caroline, I'm Stefan. That's Elena." He pointed to the brunette, who nodded. "I think that covers everyone."

Bonnie frowned. "Let's get back to the part about a… witch?"

"And more importantly, the part where we can't go back?" Damon added.

"The witch who helped us is not going to do it again. We already called in all our favors trying to get you here…" Elena's voice trailed off.

"Yeah, it took us years to get everything together even after we figured out the spell even existed, I mean do you even know how rare Jamaican rock iguanas are, and how hard it is to get a claw off of one of those suckers? That shit is endangered, you can't just go in there and kill the poor little guy." Caroline chattered on as Bonnie's eyebrows lifted higher and higher.

Damon's head cocked to the side in confusion.

Stefan coughed pointedly, staring at Caroline.

"And do not even get me started on funnel-eared bat guano, just seriously do not," she continued.

"Don't worry, I don't think they will," Elena said.

"Okay stop, everyone stop!" Bonnie stared into the gathered crowd and found them all staring back at her. "Let me just get this straight, you guys did a… spell, with a… a witch?" She watched as a few of the heads before her nodded. "And this spell brought me and Damon here… and now we're stuck?"

More nodding.

Bonnie turned to Damon, looking lost. "Okay, there it is then. I'm dreaming, this is all a dream, a weird, fairly awful, truly bizarre dream."

Damon leaned towards her. "So now it's time to wake up." He reached towards her arm, his fingers poised in a vicious pinch.

She stared at him with wide, steady eyes. It was the kind of stare that could stop a person in their tracks, the kind of stare that could convince the devil himself to rethink his life choices.

Damon stopped.

Caroline gasped and pointed at her excitedly. "That's her. That's my Bonnie. You guys, that's my Bonnie!" She rushed forward and threw her arms around a clearly confused Bonnie. "How many times have you given me that look? I'd know you anywhere, Bonnie Bennett!" Her words were muffled against Bonnie's neck.

Bonnie looked more confused than ever, but she patted Caroline's back, awkwardly.

Damon pinched his own arm and frowned when nothing happened.

Stefan shook his head, and Damon noticed the deep furrows in the younger man's brow, wondering exactly how much brooding was required to maintain such impressive depth. "Look, it's been a long day, why don't we head back to the boardinghouse for the night, and we can figure everything out in the morning?"

Damon raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you forget the part where we don't know any of you? We're not going anywhere with you guys."

Stefan turned to Damon, exasperated. "You know me, I'm your _brother_!" He seemed to register his own outburst only a moment afterwards. He sighed and continued. "Just come home, we'll get this sorted out, I promise."

Damon stared at him, shocked. Bonnie placed a hand on his arm. "Look, why don't we just stay at a hotel or something?" she asked.

"No, look, you guys can stay with me. I have an apartment outside of town, with a fully outfitted guest bedroom. It's nice, I promise. You'll be fine." Caroline smiled at Bonnie hopefully.

Wary, Bonnie looked back at her, but she nodded to Damon. "What do you think?"

"You really do not want to be asking me that right now," he answered, still eyeing Stefan.

* * *

After it all was said and done, they did go to Caroline's apartment. Lying in the comfortable queen-sized bed with its thirty different pillows strewn haphazardly across the floor, Damon pulled Bonnie into his arms.

She snuggled back into him, and for a few minutes they simply lay there, each feeling the other breathe. Bonnie wore one of Caroline's old tees, and the soft fabric of it pressed against Damon's bare chest. He wished that the group of idiots would have cast a spell to bring over some of their clothes too.

Tonight was anniversary night, he realized, and then he _really_ wished they had, his mind drifting to imagine Bonnie in that sleek, red, lacy num-

"How the hell did this happen to us?" Bonnie whispered.

"I don't know," he murmured into her hair. He cradled her closer, his fingers rubbing soothing circles into her hip. "But we'll figure it out. We'll find our way home."

Bonnie gave a soft sigh. "At least we're together."

Damon pressed a kiss to her hairline. "I love you, my wife."

"I love you, my husband," she replied, smiling into the darkness. Together they drifted to a deep, exhausted sleep.

Elsewhere in the apartment, Caroline smiled. The walls were paper thin to the point where she almost didn't even need her vampire senses to hear them, but she heard them either way.

She was glad that they had each other, glad that they hadn't been alone all that time.

Never in a million years would she have envisioned Bonnie and Damon together. But somehow now, they just… seemed to fit.


	5. 05 My Only Sunshine

ownyourdeamons:  
I refuse to believe damon and Bonnie will ever become anything.

* * *

Sunlight suffused the pale curtains with heady warmth. The light fabric seemed fuzzy to Bonnie's sleepy eyes as they blinked open.

For a moment she was disoriented by the haze, and then she recognized the unfamiliarity of the pattern of the curtain and the pillows littered across the floor, and remembered. So it hadn't been a dream after all… the fire, that dark basement, and that bizarre confrontation. They were all real. She and Damon truly weren't home anymore.

She turned to find him still fast asleep, one arm slung over her while the rest of him was splayed unceremoniously across his side of the bed.

It was a rare sight, she realized. He was the morning person of the two of them. She couldn't count the number of times she'd groaned unhappily from under the covers while he waltzed out of his morning shower in nothing but a towel, humming and as cheery as a sunbeam.

And of course the grumpier she got, the more he'd smirk and preen.

She smiled now, watching the quiet rise and fall of his chest. His hair stuck out in uncharacteristic wild angles. His lips were barely parted, and he still was lost somewhere in the oblivion of sleep.

Even when he woke they would still be lost, she thought. How far were they, exactly, from home?

Her panic and fear felt dull, muted by the warm morning sun. She knew they would be back in full force soon enough. She needed to have a plan.

Bonnie was nothing if not resourceful. Even now, thrown into a world where the rules were apparently made up and the points seemingly didn't matter, Bonnie knew that all she needed were options, set in some logical progression to lead her and her husband back to where they belonged.

So, she basked in that sunlight and sorted her thoughts.

Despite the pessimism of the gathered strangers the night before, it was obvious that they all had a better grasp on how this spell nonsense worked than she did. She should start by figuring that out. If a spell could bring them here, a spell could send them back, right?

Of the group, she decided she felt most comfortable approaching Caroline. Something about her made Bonnie want to trust her. Besides, they were in the blonde's apartment, so she would be the easiest to find. And if they ended up needing iguana claws or… guano or something for the trip home? Well, Caroline was the expert, apparently.

The delicious, smoky aroma of cooking bacon reached her from somewhere else in the apartment, and Bonnie decided there was no time like the present. The sooner they got started, the better. Plus… bacon, obviously.

And while she was down there, she reminded herself, she needed to ask about towels and finding extra clothes. She had found neither in the guest bathroom the night before, and she knew Damon wouldn't appreciate having to keep wearing his stiff dress shirt and slacks, day after day. Well, she hoped it wouldn't be too many days, anyway.

She carefully slinked out of Damon's grasp and lifted herself off of the bed.

She padded down the spiral staircase and into the open living area of the loft-style apartment. To one side, a large and airy kitchen greeted her with the sights and smells of her favorite thing: breakfast.

Sleek marble countertops and cherry cabinetry separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment, and a metal rack heavy with pots and pans floated over an island in its center. Leaning over the island and handling two sizzling pans on the gas range stood Caroline.

Bonnie gave her a timid smile and approached the counter. "Morning."

"Good morning!" Caroline chirped in response. "I'm making your favorite."

Bonnie surveyed the spread and was surprised to find that she was right. Bacon and hash browns crackled in separate pans on the stove, and nearby was a generous bowl of pancake batter, waiting to be poured onto the warming griddle.

"How did you-"

"And no eggs, don't worry." Caroline smiled.

Bonnie shook her head, puzzled. "Thank you. For everything… we didn't really properly thank you for letting us stay with you last night."

Caroline flipped a few strips of bacon and shrugged. "It's nothing. We're best friends."

Bonnie looked skeptical.

Caroline narrowed her eyes and inhaled, clues that Bonnie was quickly realizing meant she was about to launch into a speech telling her exactly what was what. "Bonnie Benne-" Caroline stopped with a lurch. "Wait, Bennett or Salvatore?"

"Salvatore."

Caroline frowned. "I don't like it."

"Neither did my mom," Bonnie laughed.

Caroline blinked at her, nodded and took in another gulp of air. "Bonnie _Salvatore_, do you really think some parallel dimension or time warp or some other random weirdness is going to stop us from being friends? Well you have another entirely different thing coming, do you hear me? Entirely. Different."

Bonnie couldn't help smiling. She could imagine her best friend back home, Meredith Sulez, saying the exact same thing.

Caroline was still talking. "I did _not_ have Saturday night sleepovers with you every week growing up, just to forget that you love breakfast but somehow hate eggs, okay? We did _not_ get in trouble together for prank calling every boy in the school directory in the seventh grade just to forget about it. We did _not_ survive Katherine and Klaus and Silas and Markos just to slip through each other's fingers afterwards, alright? We _did not_ help each other through every horrible little thing in our lives just to lose it all in the end. Are you getting this, Ben- Salvatore?" She punctuated each sentence with a menacing wave of her spatula.

Bonnie shook her head. "You remind me a lot of my best friend back home."

Caroline looked down at the hash browns, giving them a gentle prod. "That's a start, I guess." She looked back up at Bonnie with a small smile.

Bonnie smiled back. "Can I help you with any of this? I could set up drinks or something. Do you have any OJ?" She moved towards the fridge.

"No!" Caroline blurted out. "Um, here, why don't you take the reins on the bacon and hash browns. I'll start making the pancakes."

Bonnie shrugged, making her way to the other side of the counter. She took up the spatula and appreciated the satisfying hiss of each circle of batter as Caroline poured it onto the hot griddle.

She wondered if she would ever see Meredith again.

The last time she'd had breakfast with her best friend was almost a full month ago, when they'd spent a weekend in Vegas. Meredith had just broken up with some boy and fallen headlong into a major rut. As her best friend, Bonnie knew it was her duty to distract her.

Damon had not appreciated his lack of invitation, though.

She could remember standing with one ear pressed to her phone and the other covered with her hand to block out the clattering noise of the diner that Saturday morning. Meredith was incredibly hungover after a night of drinking and dancing, but Bonnie could tell as she watched her friend from the other side of the room that she was going to be okay. Meredith flinched at the loud noises around them, but she continued to shovel French toast into her mouth.

Bonnie had grinned into the phone. On the other end of the line, Damon had been far less pleased.

"Bonnieee," he moaned. "How could you abandon me like this, all alone forever?"

"I flew out less than 24 hours ago."

"That's almost a week in Damon-years."

She ducked to the side, allowing a server to move around her. "You're thinking of dog-years."

"Vacations are the woooorst!" he whined.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "You promised you'd be okay until Tuesday, remember? You know Mere really needs this."

She heard Damon give a heavy sigh. "Fine. Tell her I said hi. I guess," he grumbled petulantly.

"I love you, Damon," she laughed.

She knew he was smiling when he answered her. "Love you too, Bonnie."

"Those look just about done, I think."

Caroline's voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to find the blonde had extended two plates covered in paper towels to her. Bonnie took them and carefully transferred the crisp bacon and hash browns from the hot pans.

"I wanted to talk to you about that spell…" Bonnie began, taking the plates to the table.

Caroline shook her head, her mouth set in a tense line. "I know. After breakfast, I promise."

"Let me go wake Damon, then. He must have been exhausted. He never sleeps this late."

Caroline gave her another small smile. "Everything will be all set in a few minutes. That sounds good."

Bonnie nodded and headed back towards the staircase.

Once she was out of sight, Caroline set down the platter of pancakes on the counter and made a beeline for the fridge.

She set out the juice and milk, and then poured herself a glass of blood. She was starving, and it was taking up every ounce of her energy to pretend it didn't completely shatter her to be losing Bonnie all over again.

No matter what she said, no matter how sure she was that this was the real Bonnie, that this was _her_ Bonnie… the fact remained that her best friend didn't know her from Lady Gaga, and no recitation of their childhood memories would entice her to stay when all she wanted was to go back to whatever new home she and Damon had built out of the shambles of the collapsing Other Side.

She drank the blood cold. The veins writhed around her eyes and she felt her fangs as they descended. The thick liquid slid down her throat but provided her no pleasure.

* * *

Bonnie had made her way back upstairs and halfway down the hallway to the room she was sharing with Damon when she realized that she hadn't asked about the towels situation. She turned around and headed back towards the kitchen.

* * *

Damon slipped into his wrinkled shirt and frowned. He pulled his slacks back on and wished yet again that the idiots who had whisked them here would have been considerate enough to whisk over a fully packed suitcase as well.

Maybe a couple of more comfortable pullovers or something, at least.

And if those same idiots were to be believed, one of them was his brother. He didn't really know what to make of that. It had buzzed in his brain all night, and he had slept restlessly.

He had had something of a lonely childhood. His father had been away on business for most of what he could remember. His mother had tried to encourage him to play with other children, but he had been shy as a boy.

Not until he had met Bonnie in the sixth grade had he ever really had a friend.

And now he was supposed to have a brother?

It didn't sound terrible, in theory. But this was just too weird.

He tugged at his shirt, leaving it untucked. As long as he held it taut, the wrinkles would stay out, but the moment he –

Somewhere else in the apartment, Bonnie let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he had bounded halfway down the staircase and collided with her, as she was rushing up to him. "What's wrong?" he burst out.

Her frantic words were breathless, disjointed. "We can't – We can't. No! Right now! We have to!"

He gripped her shoulders. "Bonnie! Bonnie, what is going on?"

"We have to get out of here!"

Just then, Caroline came rushing through the doorway from the living room and stopped short, seeing them. The wriggling veins had begun to recede from around her eyes, and some thick, red liquid sloshed around in the glass she was holding.

Sharp fangs protruded from her mouth, and Damon watched in horror as they slid back up into her gums. He felt Bonnie's grasp tighten on his arm.

Caroline looked broken-hearted, her eyes brimming with tears. "I can explain," she said.


End file.
